


Tales of the Abyss Drabbles

by Cephy



Category: Tales of the Abyss
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Character Death, Drabble Collection, Humor, Introspection, Spoilers, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-10
Updated: 2009-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-07 02:52:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cephy/pseuds/Cephy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles written for various prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tales of the Abyss Drabbles

Companion to "Just Another Day". Tower of Rem spoilers.  


> Every time Luke opened his mouth to insist that he was the one who should die, Guy just wanted to-- well, no, he didn't want to hurt Luke, but he wanted to hit _something_, wanted almost unbearably to let it out because keeping it in was going to kill him first. Until he finally did lash out, and it was Luke after all, but why couldn't the idiot see that he was worth something? He was worth-- so very much.
> 
> And after, when Luke's smile was a little brittle, a little too bright, it was all Guy could do to stop himself from wrapping both arms around him and holding him down until the truth came out-- the truth he probably didn't want to know, wished he didn't think he knew already. It was too much to ask for, wasn't it, that Luke would have come through that without a scratch, when he'd been so willing to die.
> 
> But he was here. He was _still here_, and that-- for now, it would have to be enough.

Asch and his uniform.  


> He thinks he remembers feeling stifled by it, the first time he put it on. The high collar, the layers of fabric, the way his skin was completely hidden from the air. An odd memory, that, because now wearing anything else leaves him feeling raw, exposed-- continually on edge from a nagging sense of vulnerability.
> 
> No, the uniform is a shield, a persona-- he knows who he _is_ again when people are looking at the tabard and snapping a salute, and he wonders sometimes about wearing a helm like the lower knights. Because it's not like his face is his own anymore, it belongs to some _child_ a continent away, so why show it?
> 
> In a way, he _is_ the uniform, a ghost given form by leather and cloth. Because without it-- who is he? No one.
> 
> No one at all.

Van, Jade, the end of the world as we know it  


> "You seem like a reasonable man, Colonel," their opponent says, standing over him. "It's a shame it had to come to this."
> 
> "Quite a shame," Jade agrees. He coughs a bit, helplessly, presses his lips together even though the taste of blood makes him want to spit. "I would have much preferred that we win."
> 
> "Humanity wins," Van replies with flat reproof. He turns away, walks forward and lifts his arms--
> 
> "Perhaps," Jade murmurs. Closes his eyes, considers. And--
> 
> \-- a song, chords swelling, shivering through bones and stone alike--
> 
> There's really nothing for it, he decides. They'd tried-- tried everything they could, certainly. More than he'd thought they might, once upon a time. Nothing to regret, then, apart from this pesky dying business. And even that, well--
> 
> \-- the world shudders, stops--
> 
> It's actually a bit of a relief to know he won't be around to see the new world Van's arrogance would create.
> 
> \--restarts in a different key--
> 
> Jade opens his eyes, looks up at the sky as it streaks red and orange above, and smiles as it fades to black.

Luke, Dist, holding the high ground  


> "Get down here!"
> 
> A muffled yelp of protest was the only answer. Luke growled and jumped again, managed to snag one leg of the chair and hang on despite the way the entire thing bucked to throw him off. When he felt Guy's supporting grip on his ankle, he braced himself and _pulled_.
> 
> "Jaa~ade," Dist the Reaper wailed, "help me!"
> 
> Jade tilted his head thoughtfully. "If you can get a hold of the back," he offered, smiling blandly at Luke, "you may be able to tip the entire thing over."
> 
> Dist's protesting squawk turned into a full-out shriek as Luke grinned fiercely and lunged upwards.

College AU, professor problems  


> It was always a danger, coming into this wing of the Arts building, but she was already late and there was no time to walk _around_ the building to the music wing--
> 
> Of course, there he was, standing by the notice board and posting the latest test scores. And, of course, he noticed her immediately.
> 
> "Tear," he said.
> 
> "Professor Grants," she replied, neutral.
> 
> "On your way to class, I presume?" He looked down at the books in her arms; he'd never approved of her studying music. Which didn't matter one bit, even if he was her brother.
> 
> "Yes," Tear said, "I am." And walked past.

Van/anyone, lullaby  


> She was too small, curled into her bed, to bear the weight of a future already written and locked. If he ever thought to doubt the course he had embarked on-- seeing her was enough to remind him why it was necessary.
> 
> She stirred, frowning, and he reached to smoothe her hair without breaking the hymn. It was fitting, truly-- to soothe her to sleep with the very notes that had, ages past, formed the basis for her nightmares.
> 
> He could give her this, raise her on the memory of power. And then--
> 
> It was only fair that he give her a new world.

Guy/Luke, autumn  


> Luke presses nose to glass, cranes his neck to look down. The trees below are a blur of gold and red, sunset spilled across the ground. "Guy, you should look at this."
> 
> "Little busy right now." And Luke glances over to see Guy-- not tense at the controls, he hasn't been for a while, but careful.
> 
> "Right. Sorry."
> 
> Guy huffs a laugh. "C'mere." Luke does, resting arms on the back of the pilot's chair; Guy glances up and smiles. "Can see just as well from this window, you know."
> 
> Luke lets his arms slip forward until he's just touching Guy's shoulders. "Yeah, you can."


End file.
